


The Traps We Lay

by WhiteFoxKitsune (ProwlingThunder)



Series: All Hail The Queen [10]
Category: Invasion America
Genre: Dangerous Plans, Female Cale, Gen, Genderbending, Humans, Male Rita, Tyrusians, culture clash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/WhiteFoxKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt!Fill.</p><p>Rick and Rafe prepare for the Ooshati gathering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Traps We Lay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZpanSven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZpanSven/gifts).



> Prompt: Dragon

It was a trap.

Rick knew it, and when he had mentioned it to them, learned they knew it, too.

“They probably don't know it,” Rafe admitted, checking the site on his rifle. Rick had seen him over the last few weeks learn with a mess of patience how to take it apart, clean it, and then put it back together. First in the light, then blindfolded, then in the dark-- over and over again, until Rick was sure his body would do it even dead.

“We tapped into the comorbs with human tech,” Cale explained, a good bit quieter. As if she wasn't sure of the right words to use.

Rick smiled wanly. “And human technology is primitive. I know.” Cale winced. He felt bad all over again.

“Because of that, we have to expect that the Dragit's forces already know the plans; they'll be laying in wait until they least expect it.”

“If we let my uncle's plan go on unopposed, Rick, my people-- our people,” Cale hooked a tense on that that raised his hackles, grouping him in, too. His people. The idea of being responsible for a whole race of people was daunting. Could he really carry that? The weight of every man, woman and child on Tyrus? In Tyrusian space? Out-empire colonies? Research stations, military outposts, space-borne families?

But that's what came with Cale. Fighting, maybe dying, for a people whose names he'd never know, for a culture he may never be more steeped in then he was right now.

“They'll die. The Ooshati first, here on Earth. For knowing the truth. Then anyone who thinks what he's doing is wrong, then humans. They'll die by the scores. Until humans are subjugated or dead, and no one in Tyrusian space is left who will oppose him.”

Terrifyingly, he could even picture that. “...they'll kill anyone who's helped you here, too, wont they? Me, Morgue, Carrie--”

“Yes,” Rafe cut him off, frowning. Cale had turned ghost-pale, her expression horrified. His heart twisted. Oh god, she hadn't thought of that, hadn't thought that far ahead. “All of you will die, if he has his way.”

“Zak.” Rafe flicked his gaze to Cale, but Rick had already moved, enveloping her in his arms. “Zak. I've gotten you all killed. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't--”

“Shh...” Rick coaxed her gently, petting her hair. “Shh. Don't cry, Kia. It wont happen. We wont let it.” But he found himself looking at Rafe, who looked impeccably grim for someone still alive. “How do know all this?”

Rafe picked up the pistol to check it over. If they were to make it to the meeting place, they would need to leave before midnight. He glanced down the site to the far wall, then checked the clip. Then, as if being deliberately casual, he looked up at Rick.

“It's what I would do, to destroy Cale.”


End file.
